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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031148">Peculiarities of a domestic daredevil</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonTearChild/pseuds/MoonTearChild'>MoonTearChild</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Apex Legends (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Body Worship, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Elliott tops for once, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Multiple chapters, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, a lil surprise at the end, they make up, wink - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:22:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonTearChild/pseuds/MoonTearChild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is... not quite right about Octavio. He doesn't seem interested, but Elliott brushes it off as an overactive imagination and leaves it at that. </p><p>Until he can't stop worrying something is wrong, and that he just might be right after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elliott's lips traced a line down the column of the man's throat, breathing hot air as he goes. Open mouthed kisses accompany the steady strokes of his hand, though a hot pricking pain shoots through his wrist as he works, making his brows furrow in a pained concentration. That is, until a hand pushes him away before he can make contact with his mouth again, and he immediately lets go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just not feeling it tonight, amor." Octavio mumbles, eyes dull as he swings his legs over the side of the bed to retrieve his prosthetics. Latching them, he steps forward and grabs at his shorts, shirt and underwear to begin redressing with an almost sluggish temperament. Elliott sighs, nodding as he sits back on his legs, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's okay." He soothes, watching his boyfriend as he donned his clothes. "You don't want to cuddle?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna go for a run." Octane states, turning to the bedroom door with a dismissive wave of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Elliott says, voice laced with hurt. "Okay… I'll… Be here."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing the slam of the front door, Elliott sighs, scrubbing at his face with the palm of his hand to will away the tears as he thinks back on what had happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio was fucking him, though, something was off. He seemed tired, uninterested. Elliott had finished fine, but noticed quickly that his boyfriend had not, and offered to help him out despite Octavio's protests. He had tried to suck him off, and resorted to his hand when his jaw had grown tired, but even that had proved ineffective.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had he done something wrong? Was he not attractive anymore? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thoughts plagued his mind, making his eyes sting and his chest tighten as he willed himself to calm down. He was thinking irrationally. "Fuck. I have to distract myself." He sighs, throwing on a pair of sweatpants discarded on the bedroom floor and getting up to stretch. He shakes his hand, tensing and untensing to try and ease the strain, eyes searching for something to do to take his mind off everything. In the end, he settles at his desk, opening up his laptop to stare at the project page for his most recent engineering idea - a mimicking software, to create personalities for his decoys; or at least, the ones inside his bar. The customers would love it, and it would almost certainly reduce the amount of time he actually needed to be there to supervise things. Why have one manager when you could have five? If they were all extensions of yourself there would be no disagreements, no fights over profits or other ridiculous decisions. Easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can't bring himself to start, simply staring at the coding window vacantly as his mind wandered, replaying everything over and over again. He just couldn't make sense of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a frustrated sigh, he closes the laptop screen again, pinching at the bridge of his nose to alleviate the tension behind his eyes. Elliott stands, sending the chair rolling backwards with the intensity. He'd take a shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He'd take a shower and when he got out, Octavio would be back and everything would be back to normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand reaches for the light switch as he enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him that led into the bedroom. He pulls down the loungewear and throws them into the basket in the corner with a grimace. Turning on the shower, he begins the process of retrieving his wash stuff, settling on some of his nicer smelling soaps to try to cheer himself up. Once the temperature is right, he steps into the cubicle, groaning as the hot water hits his skin, reaching to rub at his shoulders and neck. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and his emotions weren't helping the situation. Elliott picks up a washcloth and, squeezing a healthy amount of shower gel into it, begins to lather the suds. He inhales, smelling the fragrance as he scrubs at his skin - probably with a little more force than necessary until the mix of hot water and fabric starts to hurt. He drops the cloth onto the floor of the shower, instead reaching for his favourite bottle of shampoo to saturate his curls, before immediately washing it out. Glumly, he turns off the water, reaching for a towel with a side glance at the mess in the cubicle. He'd deal with it tomorrow, he thought. As he passes the sink, he turns his eye to avoid his reflection, practically wincing at the notion of looking at himself while he felt bad. He knew there wouldn't be a good outcome, and hastily turns off the light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott stood in the dark bathroom for a moment, forehead pressed against the cool wooden door with a sigh. His skin tingled with goosebumps from the cold air, but he stood motionless until, seemingly snapped out of it, he turns his wrist to unlock the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, hola." Comes the casual voice, making the man snap his head up to look. Stood by the side of the bed, pulling off his gloves, Octavio smiled, eyes bright and mischievous once more. Elliott's chest swells with relief, and he takes a step into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're back, I-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio cuts him off by taking a similar step forward, hands coming to rest on his lover's waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lo siento about earlier, amor. I wasn't myself." He apologises, voice smooth as he leans in, brushing his lips against Elliott's for a moment before pulling him in to kiss him more heavily. He parts with a cheeky grin. "Though I think I'm game to finish what we started, if you're still offering." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott lets his hand rest at the back of Octavio's neck, bringing him in again with a quiet, breathy moan. He didn't need to answer with words, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets himself nuzzle into Octavio's chest, shivering in the afterglow as his chest heaves, simply happy he was there, and that he had been right. Everything was back to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with a kiss to the top of Elliott's head, he was falling asleep satisfied.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Elliott awoke, he felt refreshed. Letting out a groan, he stretches, feeling the tension in his muscles alleviate until he brings himself to roll out of bed. The floor is cold against his feet, and he quickly grabs for a clean pair of underwear along with one of Octavio’s crop tops out of convenience. He hums as the material is pulled over his face, inhaling his boyfriends scent with a dopey grin. He felt good. He slips on the hoodie hanging on the back of his desk chair, yellow with “BAM BOO ZLE” emblazoned on the back - part of his new line of merchandise he insisted on product testing, and opens the door to the hallway. His bare feet make no noise along the floor, and upon entering the open plan living space, he spies Octavio busying himself at the counter. Elliott makes his move, creeping towards the man with silent precision to rival Bloodhound, and wraps his arms around the skinnier man’s waist, propping his chin on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heya, handsome.” Elliott coos, pressing a kiss to a mark on the junkie’s neck with a smile, feeling the man momentarily tense under him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why hello there.” Octavio replies, turning to pull Elliott into a kiss with a grin, until a noise behind them makes them both jump. “Oh, right. I’m making you breakfast.” He laughs, turning back around to pull some toast out of the toaster and throwing it onto a plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No setting my kitchen on fire. I’ll have you know I very much like living here.” Elliott mock scolds, reaching down a hand to give his boyfriends rear a playful squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, me too, since I don’t pay rent.” The junkie replies with a snort, swatting at his lover’s hands in faux shock. He hums, holding up a hand for a second until the shrill sound of a timer going off fills the room, and he crosses the kitchen space to open the microwave. Steam pours out, and Mirage peers over cautiously. When no flames were seen, he relaxes. Octavio had never had much experience in the kitchen, so his good mood and offer of free food was almost suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re up early.” Elliott comments as Octavio scrapes something white and fluffy out onto the plate. Scrambled eggs and toast. He smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, full of energy today.” Octavio grins, pushing the plate towards his boyfriend. “Hope you’re hungry, amor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am. Have you already ate?” He asks, scooping a forkful of egg into his mouth, eyes widening in surprise. They tasted good, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Good?” Octavio asks, tone hopeful. Elliott nods, chewing enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really good, babe, thank you. What did you have?” He asks, curious considering Octavio had probably made two separate meals. He wasn’t typically a fussy eater, so this was strange. Octavio simply shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know.” He pauses for a second before continuing as if he hadn’t been asked a question. “Coffee?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Furrowing his brows, Mirage pauses, fork suspended in front of his mouth as he processes the return question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, no thanks. What did you have to eat, sorry? It’s just, you know, you made mine separate and I don’t want to be a bother so-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio sighs, rolling his eyes for a moment. He turns to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup, busying himself with adding milk and sugar. When he turns back around, his expression is once again cheerful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so I didn’t eat.” He pauses to take a sip, but upon seeing Elliott’s concerned expression, he continues. “I’m not hungry, just… Didn’t want to worry you. Sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The holo technician sets down his fork, brushing a hand against Octavio’s forehead, checking his temperature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not getting sick are you?” He asks, brow pinched with worry until the man waves his hand casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it’s good. Don’t worry about me, amor.” He smiles reassuringly, setting down the mug so he can bounce from foot to foot, rolling his shoulders. “Ah, I feel good today! I’ve got so much pent up energy, I don’t know what to do with it.” He laughs, ruffling a shaking hand through his already messy hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Elliott asked, tone low as he cocked a brow suggestively. Octane nods energetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, I’m def gonna run for miles today, think I’ll break my record too - I’ve got a good feeling about it.” He runs in place for a moment, stopping to do a stretch. “You gonna train today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott shrugs, taking a bite of his toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. We have time off, so maybe we could do something together?” He offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, that’s what I’m saying. We could go down to the Apex tower, run some laps, do some stunts, live a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were bright, smile infectious as he moved, never really seeming to stand still as Elliott ate the food. The trickster, however, was hesitant. He wanted to spend the day relaxing with Octavio, maybe watch a movie, lay in bed, maybe put that energy to good use without having to leave the house, but his boyfriend seemed determined. Elliott finishes the meal, setting the plate in the sink to wash later when the junkie appears by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to go?” He asks, buzzing with excitement. Elliott’s shoulders slump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, actually, I kind of wanted to spend the day inside today, Tav. We have a break, we don’t need to be out there every day, you know?” He mumbles, feeling guilty for going against his boyfriends wishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pfft, you’re boring amigo. But whatevs, you have stuff to do, right? I’ll be back later, adiós!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It happens before he can fully process it, and Octavio is speeding down the hall to leave, throwing a wave over his shoulder and before he knows it, the front door shuts, and Elliott is once again left on his own. He sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re boring amigo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amigo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amigo. Friend. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably just a slip of the tongue.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He thinks to himself, trying hard not to think of last night, before the make up sex. Octavio had left just as quickly, as if eager to get away from him. He suddenly sniffles, feeling stupid standing alone in his apartment with his boyfriends crop top on, and zips up the hoodie. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have stuff to do, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he did. That code wasn’t going to write itself, but he found himself still stood there, pondering over those words.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re boring amigo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it’s totally fine! We’re a couple, and couples don’t have to be together all the time. We have our own interests and just because I don’t want to train every day doesn’t mean he hates me, I’m just being ridi- redu-... ri… Dumb.” He reasons with himself, voice filled with a faux confidence that trailed off at the end. “I’m just being dumb.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heading back to the bedroom with Octavio’s half finished cup of coffee in his hands, he sits at his desk and once again reopens the laptop lid. He was determined to get some work done today, whether he really wanted to or not. Absentmindedly, he takes a sip of the drink and pauses as the flavor hits his taste buds. This was… sweet. Thinking back, Octavio had put sugar in his coffee, but that was something he never did. He hated sweet coffee, preferring just a little bit of milk and nothing else. It would be easy to think that Octavio knew he wouldn’t finish his coffee, and added sugar because he knew Elliott would, but that didn’t make sense. He could just add the sugar himself if that was the case, and really, this was almost too sweet for even </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> to drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no doubt Octavio was acting strange. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott pondered over what to do while his laptop loaded up his files, torn between his anxiety of overreacting and coming across as accusing or under reacting and coming across as cold or ignorant. He takes another sip of the cool, too sweet coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, he gets over two protocols of code done, having forgotten about the whole mess with the drink and his boyfriends peculiar behavior. He rubs at his face with the tips of his fingers, deciding to call it a day for now, besides, Octavio said he would ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>be back later</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ so, really, how long could he be? “Oh man, I really wish I’d worn my glasses.” Elliott groans. His eyes were tired, and the clock on the nightstand read 1:30 PM. He stands, stretching until his back cracks with a satisfying pop, and brushes his hair out of his face. “Five hours, no wonder my eyes hurt.” He mutters, sighing. He had the tendency to lose time when he was focused, that was for sure. “Shit, maybe I should just take a nap.” The sound of the front door would wake him, so he decided to lie down, slinging his arm over his face as he settled into the sheets. He would just rest his eyes for a little while, and spend the rest of the day with Octavio when he got back. Easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Indeed the sound of the front door woke him, but Elliott sat up feeling groggy, groaning through the confusion about where he was until he could remember. He wipes his eyes, yawning. When he reopens them, he notices the sky is dark outside his window. “Wha’ the fuck?” He mumbles, dazed, and turns to read the clock. 7:30 PM. “What?!” He asks again, adrenaline rushing over him. He had fell asleep in the afternoon, had Octavio only just gotten back? Was his clock broken? He stands, stumbling slightly and exits the bedroom, padding down the hall into the living space where he sees his boyfriend stood by one of the sofas, unaware he was being watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio groaned, rubbing at his forehead with a curse as he took a step forward, stumbling to the side in the process and nearly knocking over a lamp on the side table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tavi? Baby, are you okay?” Elliott asks nervously, stood in the doorway. Octavio turns to face him, and the trickster's eyebrows furrow in concern. Octavio looked terrible, paler than usual, dark circles, he looked gaunt and confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elliott?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tavi, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He steps into the room, quickly making his way over to the man to steady him, but before he can wrap an arm around his shoulder, he’s brushed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dios mío, Elliott, I’m fine!” Octavio snaps, glaring at the man as he rubs at his forehead again with a scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something’s wrong!” He insists, grabbing at his arm and moving him towards the sofa. The junkie bats his hand away, scoffing, and sits by himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a headache, Mierda!” His tone is full of vitriol as he sighs angrily, pressing at his temples as if Elliott being there had irritated it further. “I’m fine, are you happy?” He asks bitterly, eyes cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott stops, mouth open as if unsure what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He explains quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, I’m real peachy. Leave me alone.” Comes the sarcastic response, Octavio turning to lie on the sofa with his back to his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… Sorry. I’ll be at the bar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott is quick to dress, not even bothering to find a coat before leaving. He’s careful to shut the door quietly as he goes, trying to keep it together until he gets to the Lounge, and most surprisingly, he does. He shuts the door to the bar behind him and a sob escapes his lips, legs buckling as he slides down until he hits the floor. His chest shudders with shaking breaths as he tries his best to stifle his crying, hand in front of his mouth. Octavio had never </span>
  <em>
    <span>yelled</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him like that. He cried until his throat hurt, and he was silent, and until the tears would no longer come. He was a mess, face wet and snot running into his usually immaculately kept beard. It’s then he stands, balancing on unsteady legs as he makes his way to the bar, leaning over the surface to hit the interior lights. Perching on a stool, Elliott cries some more, reaching for a bottle of his finest he knew he would be mad about wasting tomorrow, and cracked the seal.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Get'cha ass out here, Witt, I don't wanna be waitin' in the cold!" Comes the strict voice from somewhere beyond his consciousness. Elliott groans, trying to block out the bright light from behind his closed eyes. His body felt stiff and grimy, and his head was resting on something uncomfortable. Eventually, he works up the courage to open his eyes when the thundering noise outside doesn't quit. Immediately, bright sunlight assaults his senses, making him groan with a croaky voice as he tries to shield his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To say he felt horrible was an understatement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth was dry and tasted disgusting, and his head was pounding like he'd been hit with a metal bat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shiiiit." He moans feebly, clutching at his temples as it all comes rushing back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see ya awake, Elliott, ya gonna let me in or just sit there?" Comes the voice again, making him wince. Everything was so damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Unceremoniously, he sets a foot on the floor and nearly stumbles, grimacing at the pain in his head that radiated down his spine from the position he blacked out in. Step by step, he makes his way to the doors of the bar and hesitates when he sees who's behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay waits with arms folded, looking unimpressed as they lock eyes through the glass of the door. "Ya arms quit workin'? Open up, Witt, we need to talk."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He debates turning on his heel and going back to the bar to stave off the hangover with more booze, but decides that being scolded by Ajay is a fate worse than death with a migraine as painful as this, and twists the lock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good morning to you too. Suppose you're not here for a day drink?" He asks as casually he can muster as she steps inside, shutting the door behind her as she goes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Quit the act. What's this about you not comin' home last night? Tavi's worried." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, he can't help but scoff, residual bitterness coming back to him from the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Worried huh? That's nice, what's the occasion?" He snaps, tensed up with a glare on his face, Ajay shoots him a confused look in return. "I suppose he hasn't talked to you then, he's good at that." Elliott rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Forget that a second. Don't need to be a genius to see you've been drinkin' again, Elliott, we've talked about this." Ajay's tone drops to one of sympathy, to which Mirage huffs, turning away from her to grab the empty bottle that was perched on the bar, tossing it into the bin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine, are you happy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to suppress the shudder that runs through him, but when Ajay's hand encircles his arm, spinning him around to face her, his vision goes black and before he knows it, he hits the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up (</span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>), he's laid on one of the couches in the backroom of the bar, Ajay hovering over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good, ya awake. Didn't wanna have to pull out the shots."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened?" He croaks, squinting up at the woman as she moves to help him into a slumped sitting position to give him a glass of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Turned ya too quick, you passed out. Threw up on my shoes too." She's unimpressed, but not mad. Elliott grimaces as he takes a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, Ajay, I'm sorry. I'll buy you some more." He mumbles, eyes downcast as the thrumming base of his headache assaults his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don' worry about that, talk to me, Witt." She perches on the corner of the couch, brushing a hand over his sweat soaked forehead like a mother would her sick child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had always been close, in the ring and outside of the games. They'd been friends before Elliott had started dating Octavio, but the relationship had only made them closer. He thinks on it for a moment, fondly remembering the times they would gossip whenever Octavio did something dumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes another slow drink of the water, hoping to wash the taste out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sure where to start…" He sighs, scratching at his jaw frustratedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How about with breakfast, huh? Reckon you can eat?" Ajay asks softly, shooting him a smile. Elliott laughs, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That sounds pretty good to me, lead the way." He stands, grimacing at the spike of pain in his head as he does so, and looks down. "What about your shoes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I washed em while you were out, don't worry. Now get movin'!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He follows behind her, regretting his choice of not bothering to pick up a jacket the night previous and rubs at his arms. The cold was sobering, though, and pretty soon he feels a lot better than he did upon waking up. Ajay leads him to a side street, stopping at a small building nestled in an alcove with a grin. "No worries about being hassled here, my friend owns the place, it's quiet." Her tone is knowing, understanding that publicity was the last thing he needed right now, hungover and smelling like stale booze and vomit. They step inside and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief. The cafe is warm and inviting, and better yet, nobody is inside. The smell of food sends his stomach into a growling fit, and he laughs awkwardly. "Let's get ya some food huh?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That sounds amazing, honestly." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He follows the medic to the corner table, sitting opposite her with a groan as his back protests in pain. He fishes around in his pockets for his wallet until Ajay holds up a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't think about it. I'm paying." She says sternly, and sensing his protest, again speaks up, "Doctors orders."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott sighs defeatedly, dropping his hands onto the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you insist. Right now I just need something disgustingly sugary." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once their food is served to the table, Ajay rests her chin on her intertwined hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, now why was Tavi telling me you didn't come home last night?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mirage sighs, cutting into the syrupy oversaturated waffle and shoving a bite into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We got into a fight." He states plainly, then pauses. "No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn't. He just… Snapped, yelled at me, I didn't know what to do, so I just left." His mouth is full while he talks, as if to distract himself from what he's saying. The feelings were still raw, and he takes a hasty swig of his coffee once he swallows the food. "I've never seen him like that before, Ajay… I was scared." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has trouble meeting her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did he say?" She presses, tone quiet as she sets a hand in his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He wasn't acting right. I was worried about him, but he just kept ini- ins… insisting he was fine. He wouldn't let me help him…" Elliott takes a shaking breath. "I think… I think he's cheating on me." Before he can stop it, his lip begins to tremble and he covers his face to hide his tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott, this isn't the first time I've seen him act an ass, but that's a serious accusation." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't get it, Ajay. He won't… The other night, he couldn't…" He shoves aside his embarrassment, desperate to tell someone just to know he wasn't going crazy. "He couldn't get off to me, he just… Left. Went '</span>
  <em>
    <span>for a run</span>
  </em>
  <span>'. Sure as hell came back all cheered up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes simply widen, and then squint in an angered sadness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That little- I swear, Elliott, if that's the truth he'll never see the light of day again once I'm through with him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a shuddering breath to try and calm down. So Ajay thought it was likely too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's… Am I not sexy anymore? What did i do wrong?" He sobs, entangling a hand in his curls. Ajay's hand squeezes his tightly, forcing him to look at her through his tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Talk to him, Elliott. It's all you can do. Let me know what happens, it's probably just a misunderstanding - you know he's not the best with his feelings." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods solemnly, feeling drained. All he wanted was to go home, curl up and be wrapped in loving arms, but how could he do that if the man he so desperately needed right now was the root of the problem?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Ajay. Seriously, you're a great friend." He sniffs, rubbing at his eyes with a closed fist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Any time, Witt. Now finish ya breakfast."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fumbling with his keys, Elliott's hands shake as he tries to unlock the door. He steadies himself with a deep breath and turns the lock, stepping inside into the warmth of the house. The copious amounts of syrup he slathered on his breakfast turns in his stomach, making him feel incredibly nauseous and he wonders how much his neighbours would mind him throwing up in the communal hallway. Eventually, he reluctantly shuts the door behind him, a white knuckle grip on the handle as he wills himself to walk down the hallway. He takes a deep breath, cursing to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon, Witt, mom didn't raise a coward. This is your house, go do your thing." He whisper yells to himself, subconsciously refusing to let go of the door handle. "You got this, just… Take a step… Or several. And just, go find him. Talk. Like adults." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, there you are." Comes a tired, almost bored voice. Elliott jumps, stumbling back into the closed door with a cry of shock as Octane appears from the bedroom behind him. He quickly clears his throat and stands back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No need to sound too worried, it's fine." He scoffs bitterly. "Anyways, we need to talk." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio rolls his eyes, sighing as he angles his neck so it pops a couple times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't it wait? Not really feelin' it right now." He shoves his hands into his shorts pockets, eyes practically glazed over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. I'm worried about you, Octavio, and I'm not going to sit around waiting for a '</span>
  <em>
    <span>better time</span>
  </em>
  <span>' to find out what's wrong." Elliott takes a step forward, folding his arms angrily to make his point clear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've told you I'm fine, you're just being paranoid." He snaps, glaring out at the holographic trickster from underneath his messy fringe. "End of discussion." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! No it's not!" Elliott yells, face contorting with anger. "You've been acting like a stranger. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, and I'm sick of feeling like this. Just tell me what I've done wrong, please! Ever since the last season ended you just haven't been yourself and…" He sobs. "I just need to know you're okay, Octavio."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The junkie's face twists, contorting in anger to match his own as he takes a step forward, venom in his tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not Octavio. Not Octavio Silva. I'm Octane, I'm a fucking Apex Champion, and I don't need anyone to slow me down. Not even you." He prods a finger into the centre of his boyfriends chest, lip raised in an almost feral snarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't mean that." He says, suddenly feeling like throwing up might be a real possibility. His skin is cold and clammy, and the bitter laugh that bubbles up from Octane's throat makes his chest tighten until he can barely breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes I do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He won't cry, he decides, jaw clenching until his teeth feel like they're about to crack. He stares down at the man stood only inches away from him, trying to read anything past the rage on his face and finds nothing more, nothing less, only anger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then maybe you should go." He says, without intending to, and in that instant, he wishes he could take it all back. Octane snorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe I will." And just like that, he's taking a step towards the door. Elliott panics, grasping at anything that could get him to stay, make him forget the whole thing and go back to being happy, and instead, he starts to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I loved you, you know. I really did." And for just a second, Octavio slips through the hatred in the strangers eyes, and then it's gone. "I thought I had a chance with you, for a life. A normal life, without all this killing and publicity. Guess I was just being dumb." The laugh that leaves his lips is high pitched and frail, as if he might break at any second. "Pack your things, when I come back I don't want to ever be reminded you lived here."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he turns, wrenching open the door with his sweating hand, and slams it behind him. He feels oddly numb as he walks the streets, mind blank and then he's knocking on a door he cannot remember how he got in front of. He feels weak and lifeless, shivering out in the cold of what he vaguely recognised as the Apex building corridor, and then the door opens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott?" Comes the voice, and he collapses into their chest, sobbing as gentle hands stroke through his hair before securing around his shoulders. He's dragged inside seconds before anyone else hears the noise and decides to investigate, and Ajay coos softly, setting him on her couch. "Elliott, talk to me. What happened?" She asks, rubbing circles into his back as he howled into her stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't mean it… I- I… I didn't …" He stutters out through tears, struggling to catch his breath. His fists tighten into the fabric of her sweatpants as he chokes, trying to breathe. A hand settles under his chin, lifting his face so that he's staring into Ajay's concerned eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Breathe, Elliott. In. Out." Her tone is calm but demanding, easing him through each breath until he can do it on his own. He shakes against her side as she strokes his hair, saying nothing until he's ready to speak. "Do ya want some water?" He nods, and she parts from him gingerly to head to the sink. He watches her with blurry eyes, feeling so incredibly drained. Suddenly, his mouth begins to water, and he rushes to stand, stumbling to the bathroom. He throws himself to the floor in front of the toilet just in time and vomits, gripping the porcelain lid with white knuckles. He heaves, fresh tears streaking down his soaked cheeks as Ajay appears behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have nothing to apologise for." She tuts, rubbing between his shoulder blades as she crouched beside him, handing him the glass of water. "Take sips, don't gulp it down."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He told me- …I kicked him out. He doesn't love me anymore." He whispers, staring into the corner of the room. He takes an absent-minded sip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Elliott. I'm sorry." Ajay sighs, eyes closing in defeat. She had never seen Octavio as happy as when he was with Elliott. Something had happened to change him, she thought. '</span>
  <em>
    <span>He would never have willingingly thrown this away</span>
  </em>
  <span>.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine. I suppose it was only a matter of time.  I'm used to it, everyone gets sick of me after a while." He says emptily, and her grip on his shoulder involuntarily tightens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't say that. You're one of the kindest guys I've ever met-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't want to go home. I'm… I'm worried about what will happen if I do, Ajay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coldness spreads through her at this, and she stiffens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stay here tonight, Elliott. Stay as long as you need." She brushes some hair away from his face, and it's greasy under her touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." His voice is monotonous, and his eyes don't move from their fixed position. He takes another sip. "I'm just… So tired." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers graze through the shaved hair at the nape of his neck, making him shudder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon, I'm putting you to bed." She helps haul him, flushing the toilet before they step out of the room and down the hall. Ajay kicks open her bedroom door with her foot, setting him down on the bed. He looks up at her sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not taking your room, Ajay." He states, but makes no effort to fight it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nonsense, Witt. What you need right now is sleep, and I'm not letting ya leave this room before you do." Her voice is motherly, pulling off his shoes and untucking the duvet to pull over him, pushing him back into reclining in the bed. "I'll get ya a new glass of water." She soothes, exiting the room to fulfill the request and bringing a bucket along the way in case his stomach decided to continue to protest to his crying. Quietly, Ajay steps back into the bedroom, setting down the items and brushing some hair from his forehead. She leaves and shuts the door quietly, sighing, and reaches for her phone. "C'mon." She mumbles, lifting it to her ear as it rings. The dial tone sounds, and she sighs, hanging up. "Dammit, Tavi, what have you done?"</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Elliott wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room is dark, and smells like perfume, and that alone is enough to send him into a panic. His head throbbed, and although he didn't remember drinking, he definitely didn't want to rule out the possibility. He cautiously swings his legs over the side of the bed and takes a look around, pulse thrumming under his skin. "You fucking idiot, what have you done now?" He growls, clutching at his head. Had he slept with someone to try to take the pain away? He'd done it before, and he knew it didn't work. There's a knock at the door that makes him jump, and before he can speak, Ajay pops her head through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"G'mornin, made ya breakfast." She smiles softly, and he's at least a little reassured. Okay, so he definitely didn't sleep with Ajay. He follows her out and sits down at the breakfast bar. "Didn't know what ya wanted so hope that's okay." She sets the plate down and his eyes begin to fill with tears. Scrambled eggs and toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I miss him." He whispers, wiping at his eyes. He was sick of crying. "I want to go home." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hon, I don't think that's a good idea-" She starts, and Elliott looks up at her, eyes filled with sorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need to go home, I just need to see…" He didn't know what. See if it was all a big joke? See if Octavio was really still there? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eat your food, Elliott, I'll walk you home." She sighs, squeezing his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want you to keep texting me, okay? If I don't hear back from you I'm coming back over." Ajay look sternly into his eyes, making him promise something unsaid. He nods, turns and unlocks the door. "I'm here if you need me." She says in parting, understanding that he needed to do this alone, and turns on her heel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Elliott walks into the apartment, it's silent. He shuts the door, hesitates on where to go, and begins the walk to the living room. Every step felt like another blow to his chest, until he's stood in the doorway, eyes closed. Unwilling to look and see the truth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vacant spots stood out around the room where items that had long been stood there were removed. He was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was really gone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This isn't the last chapter dont panic</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Groaning, Elliott stretches with a yawn. Eyes still shut, his hand searches the bed for a warm body as a force of habit, and simply sighs when he remembers. He pulls the blankets further up his body, covering his head with a whimper. He debates staying in bed again, weighing up the pros and cons. He felt like shit, sure, but was he really going to feel any better outside of his bed? '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably not</span>
  </em>
  <span>', he thinks, and shoves his face back into the warmth of the pillow. He just couldn't stand being outside, and even inside his apartment, everything just looked so foreign with </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> stuff missing. He had to shower, but really what was the point? He had nobody to impress, and the games wouldn't start up for at least another few weeks. He's just debating going back to sleep when his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up the dark room and making him scowl. Elliott reaches for the device blindly, not bothering to remove his face from the fabric as he does so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ajay: Ya still with me? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay: got a nice place to grab food if ur down? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares at the screen for a moment, wincing. Ajay had been trying so hard to get him out of the house these last few days, he felt incredibly guilty for continuing to turn her down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott: not feeling it. Sorry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sends back a sad face and he sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ajay: This is the third day in a row, El. Ya gotta leave some time. But I'll be here when you feel up to it &lt;3</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He resists the tears threatening to spill, and throws his phone aside again, pulling the spare pillow from the vacant side of the bed and hugging it to his chest, burying his face into it to absorb the scent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tavi, you asshole…" Elliott chokes out, lip trembling. The fabric still smelled like him. "I miss you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Being awake is painful; Elliott does nothing but overthink, but being asleep is worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're boring amigo, you slow me down. I don't want you anymore." Comes the sneering distortion of Octane's voice, and he stares at the man in front of him, obscured behind his game apparel so that his expression is hidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did I do wrong?!" He asks, voice muffled in comparison to the voice of the man standing before him. All he receives is a laugh in response. "Please, just tell me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I loved Mirage. Elliott Witt is just a fraud, a pathetic imitation. Too bad, compadre." He sneers. He turns and begins walking away, but as Elliott tries to follow, he finds he can't move. He can only scream as the man he loved was once again leaving him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott wakes in a cold sweat, tears staining his face and voice hoarse from yelling in his sleep. He sits up, wildly looking around as he struggles to catch his breath. His phone vibrates against the floor and he debates letting it ring out until he sees the five missed calls already in his notifications. Ajay. Chewing at his lip, he reaches over to grab at the mobile, swiping along the screen to open the call.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Elliott, thank god you're answering." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Missed me that much, Aja-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's Tavi." She sounds frantic, and his stomach drops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha- ...What's wrong?" He can barely whisper out, already moving to stumble out of the covers. He knocks over takeout containers stashed around the side of his bed, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he pulls a pair of pants from his desk chair. He pauses with one leg through the fabric as she speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not good, Elliott. You should come here… If you think you can." She pauses for a shaking breath. "You don't have to, but-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm on my way." He rushes his words, hanging up and pulling his other leg through. His hands shake as he tries to close the button, and instead of opting for a shirt, he grabs the yellow hoodie, throwing it on and scrambling for his shoes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurriedly, he dials a number into his phone, panic playing in his chest like a swarm of some horrible bug, eating him from the inside out. It rings once and there's a click as the line connects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Makoa? I need a ride. It's urgent." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say no more, brotha. Be right there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be a half an hour walk to the Apex clinic, and this was the only thing he could think of. He doesn't even bother tying his shoes, instead tucking the laces into the sides like he did when he was a kid, too eager to play out to worry about being safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck." He huffs, hesitating before turning to his bedside cabinet to open the drawer. Fishing around, he pulls out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Shakily, he puts one between his lips before igniting the end, taking a long drag. "Mom would be mad." He laughs anxiously, and feels worse for it. A horn outside signals his attention and he debates leaving the packet for a second before stashing them in his pocket for later. He rushes the stairs of the apartment, nearly tripping before making his way outside to where Makoa was waiting on his bike. "Hey, sorry to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, none of that. Where to?" Comes the reassuring voice of one of Apex's most reliable fighters, and Elliott could hug him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The main building. It's … It's Octavio." He grabs the helmet out of Gibraltar's hand and slips it on, hopping onto the back of the bike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he looked like shit, Makoa didn't say anything. He radiated a reassuring presence without even having to speak a word, and Elliott almost felt calm as they sped along the roads to the building. They were there in no time, and he pulls off the helmet with a sigh. "Thank you, I seriously owe you one. I know I dragged you away from your boyfriend…" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gibraltar simply holds up a hand, and Elliott falls silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go, we can talk later." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods wordlessly and turns, sprinting up the stairs and into the main lobby to the elevator, slamming on the button to go up as quick as it would allow him. After a second, he curses and turns to the stairs, beginning to speed up them in an effort to get there as soon as his body would allow. He practically slams full body into Ajay as he rounds the corner to the infirmary, eyes wide and frantic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank god ya here, Elliott. He's not lookin' good." Her voice is low and orderly, and that doesn't bode well. Ajay was trying her best to be a doctor right now despite her worry for her friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tell me what's wrong." He demands, practically shaking with anxiety. She lays a hand on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"First, I need you to calm down."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! God dammit that's my boyfriend in there-" he pauses, realising his mistake. "Ajay please." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott watches as her eyebrows knit together, testing her wording out in her head. "Just tell me, I can take it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's been stealing Stim from the storage lockers. Elliott, he's addicted. Ever since the games ended, he's been having withdrawal symptoms. Low sex drive, snappy, not eating, I'd been thinking about what it could be these last few days from what you told me, but… We found him, out on the roof with a jump pad. He'd gotten his hands on more, somehow. Only he didn't attach his dialysis machine. He was seconds from doing something stupid for his fans, there was no way he was thinking straight. He probably saved his own life." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened, Ajay?" He asks, voice trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Myocardial infarction. We believe he had a heart attack. He's not looking good, Elliott." Her eyes are glassy, trying her damndest to stay professional. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's dying?" He asks, voice barely a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We don't know. We've tried our best to stabilise him, pumped the drugs out of his system but…" Ajay's voice cracks, and before Elliott can register it, he's hugging her hard as they both cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How didn't I know something was wrong? What kind of boyfriend am I?" He sobs, and she grips at his jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You couldn't have known. Just…" She pulls away to lock eyes with him. "Go see him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he enters the room, the quiet, rhythmic sounds of a heart monitor greet him, and he gasps. Octavio was laid on a medical bed, hooked up with wires and IV's, eyes closed. He looked pale, gaunt and tired. His forehead shone with sweat, and his eyes moved uneasily behind the lids. Carefully, Elliott pulls up a chair, simply taking it all in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Octavio. It's me. It's Elliott. I'm here." His voice cracks as he takes the hand resting on the sheets, squeezing it softly twice. He doesn't react. "I'm here now… It's okay." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voice raspy, he whispers comforts out into the empty room, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he brings Octavio's hand to his forehead. "I love you. Please, let me be selfish. Please, be okay. I honestly don't care if you really don't love me anymore just… Don't leave me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott's body shakes with each struggling breath as he cries, kissing at the man's inner wrist and intertwining their fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Elliott, maybe you should-" Ajay, starts, and he flinches in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine, Ajay, I've got to stay here!" He insists frantically, turning to look at her. "What if he wakes up and I'm not here?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you'll be the first to know, Elliott, please." She grips the clipboard firmly between her hands and her glare is motherly in nature. "There's only so long you can sleep on that chair, it's not healthy." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't care about my health! I'm not the one who could-" He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm going for a smoke." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay tuts, setting down the board on the side table to swap over the drip bag attached to one of Octavio's IV's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I swear you've smoked that entire packet since you got here, Witt." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm a little stressed, Ajay. Do excuse me." He huffs sarcastically, running a sweating hand through his hair as he tips back the chair slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine, but don't come running to me when you can't catch ya breath in the games." She scolds, grabbing the back of the chair to set all four legs down against the floor. "I'll let you know if anything happens, go take a break." Her voice is soft and reassuring, squeezing at his shoulder. He sighs heavily and stands, nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks. I'll be right back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott takes the stairs slowly, fiddling with the lighter inside his pocket. He clicks it, lets it scald his fingertips and stops to repeat again. Keeping his head down as the sound of footsteps approach, he tries his best to ignore whoever it is until a hand brushes his arm and he fights the urge to break their hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott, I'm-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go away. I don't want to hear it." He scowls, wrenching himself away from their touch and continuing quicker down the stairs. He hated their pitying looks. They just didn't get it. The legends had tried to show their sympathy, but he had simply told Ajay to lock the door when they came around. He didn't need it. Even Crypto had tried to reach out, sending his drone to hover in front of the infirmary door with a note attached until Elliott had grown sick of the incessant buzzing of the motor and walked outside to snatch the paper, crumpling it up and throwing it at the lens without a glance at the contents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had stopped trying after that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He breathes in the fresh air and lights the cigarette, leaning against the cold wall of the building until the chill seeps through his thin hoodie and sweatpants, but he made no effort to move. He hadn't been home to change, and that was what? Two days ago now? Breathing the tinted smoke out through his nose, he lets his head thud back against the wall. The cigarettes were starting to become a permanent habit again, much to his annoyance. It had taken him nearly a year to quit the first time, and he was - much to Ajay's underestimation - actually on his second packet since getting here. He flicks the ash away with a practiced movement of his wrist, trying to fight away the almost permanent addition of anxiety stuck in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something so haunting about seeing the man he loved laid there, prosthetics suspended away from his grasp should he wake up, sick and practically lifeless. The dark circles under his eyes were now practically permanent and god he was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>thin</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should he wake up</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not when. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He throws the cigarette on the floor and stomps it out, cursing as he wipes at his eyes. They stung, and his face was puffy from all the crying. He didn't much look like himself either, and his voice had a permanent rasp to it from his tears and the smokes. It seemed he was back to old tricks to cope, and the memories left a sour taste in his mouth. His stomach gurgled incessantly, much to his annoyance. "Fuck, I suppose I should get food. Bring Ajay something too, it's the least I could do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returns to the infirmary with a carrier bag of takeout food, setting it on the side cabinet. "How is he?" He asks anxiously, looking over at Ajay who was busy prodding him. She sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Still out cold. Stabilised now though, so that's a start. We've started him on some intravenous foodstuffs to keep his strength up. His body is fighting hard, Elliott. We just have to wait now and hope for the best." Her voice portrays tiredness, but then again, he isn't surprised. Ajay hadn't allowed anyone else to take over for her yet, constantly at their beck and call should something go wrong. She took the small couch in the waiting room, sleeping on alternate shifts to Elliott so there was always someone to watch over him. Just in case… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I brought you food." He points at the bag, taking a seat back on his chair. Her face softens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you. I'm going to take a break for a bit, you got this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." He smiles. Elliott watches as Ajay takes her portion and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her to give them some privacy. His eyes wander back to the sleeping man, running his fingers across Octavio's cheek, up, brushing fading green tipped hair out of his eyes. "Hey." He greets softly. "Sorry, would have got you some food too but it looks like Ajay's already got you covered." The laugh that leaves his chest is hollow.  "Sorry. That was bad." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence lingers in the air for a moment before he shifts in the uncomfortable chair with a sigh. "You should see me right now, Tavi, I'm a mess. I feel like a kid again, dealing with my brothers going MIA…" his brow furrows, a frown decorating his lips. "I miss you and your loud mouth. I'd say my bed's empty without you, but I haven't left you; don't think I can - not again." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott swallows the lump in his throat and turns to grab the carrier of food, busying his mouth with eating instead of talking - that just made him sad. "I've been eating so much junk. You'd be impressed…" he mumbles out through a mouthful of takeout noodles, and decides to stay quiet again after that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finishes the food, throwing the remainder in the bin to the side, and simply sits, tracing patterns into the back of Octavio's free hand. The silence drives him mad but he just can't bring himself to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knows it, he's slumped, head resting on the side of the bed with his eyes closed as he mumbles into Octavio's palm. "I wish you'd just told me, Tavi. I wouldn't have been mad. You probably felt so alone, so scared…" he double squeezes the hand in his, and receives no response. "But I'm still not mad. Not anymore. I just want you to be okay. I love you, and I'd do anything for you. I'd give my life for yours in a heart beat, just to have you back." He can feel himself crying again, but at this point it doesn't even phase him.  "I just want to see your eyes again, I want to see you smile, and laugh at my terrible jokes - I know they're no good really. Please, Tavi. Just let me know you're there." He kisses at the man's palm, hoping for some response. Nothing. "I love you. Te amo." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott falls asleep at Octavio's bedside, resting uneasily between nightmares of the worst possible scenario and the best. Ajay is almost hesitant to disturb him, creeping in quietly to check the comatose Junkie's temperature. He was still sweating heavily. His pulse was there, but just barely. Things weren't looking good. If he didn't wake up in the next few days… Well… She looks down at her childhood friend, chewing at her lip as she thought back on everything that had happened between them. Yes, Octavio was insensitive beyond belief sometimes, he was dumb and impulsive and he had almost cost her her job, but she wouldn't trade him for the world. She thinks back on before, similar situation, similar stakes at risk. After the grenade jump, he had nearly died from the infection in what was left of his legs, she had even mad, but she had cried too. Stayed up late hoping he'd pull through so she could slap him upside the head and tell him exactly how dumb he was. If-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No when- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he makes it through this time, she'll just hug him, tell him how worried she was. Anger could wait, looking down at the man who had kept his promise, never leaving his bedside for more than a second if it wasn't necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger could wait.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She aspirates the needle, nodding to herself as she presses down on the plunger. The cocktail of medications he was on should be working by now. As the vial empties, his heart rate picks up drastically. Anxiety spikes through Ajay's chest, eyes snapping to the heart rate monitor by the bedside, and she fears the worst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside her, Elliott jumps awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's wrong!?" He gasps, filled with adrenaline as he surveys the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit." Is all her response includes as she scrambles for the trolley across from her, grabbing a fresh needle to pull from a bottle of sedatives. "Talk to him, Elliott." She begins to draw the fluid out into the needle, trying to stop her hands from shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Octavio? Calm down baby, I'm here. It's me, Elliott. It's okay, everything's alright sweetheart I'm… I'm here." He stares down into the junkie's features, then up at Ajay, desperate to know he was doing okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Keep going." She urges, crossing the room in three long strides to reach Octavio's bedside. She pulls a turniquet from the tray and begins to try and find a vein. "You're doing good, Elliott."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, okay. Tavi, it's alright. You're going to be okay, alright you're… Y-You…" He lowers his head to Octavio's shoulder, trying to keep his voice clear and level despite the tears threatening to fall. "You can do this. You've got to fight. I know you can, because you never give up. Octavio, please. Don't leave me - I love you." He grasps at the thin hand, giving it two strong squeezes as Ajay goes to insert the needle into the crook of Octavio's arm, and then Elliott jumps, eyes wide. Octavio's eyes flutter, hand weakly squeezing back twice. "Ajay! Ajay he's… He can hear me! Fuck, he's…" Elliott sobs, burying his face into the material of Octavio's shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ajay pauses, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Death wishes he could catch up to me, amor." Comes the whisper quiet voice, hand lifting to stroke through Elliott's hair. "Te amaré a través de todo, Elliott. I'm sorry." He places a gentle kiss to the man's hairline with dry lips, grimacing with the pain it brought him to move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll give you two a moment alone, just hang on a sec." Ajay laughs, eyes leaking happy tears. She swaps the sedative out for something different and injects it into the IV line. "Somethin' for the pain. It's good to have you back Silva." She smiles, kissing his cheek before exiting the room, closing the door behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now alone, Octavio looks away, swallowing thickly. He tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat. Elliott stands, moving to the water cooler in the corner of the room and filling a cup. He holds it to Octavio's mouth, stroking at his hair as he drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not too much, you'll make yourself sick." He scolds lightly, no real malice behind it now he knows Octavio is okay. Then he sits, discarding the drink to the side, and simply closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of relief washing over him in waves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott…" Octavio tests, shoulders hunched. The trickster simply hums, not moving except to rub his eyes. "Look at me, por favor?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Elliott opens his eyes, Octavio is crying. "I'm sorry. I-" He stutters out sentence fragments until Elliott wraps his arms around Octavio's waist, pulling him into his chest and shushing him gently. "No! I was horrible to you - let me apologise!" He half yells, tears and snot streaking his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Octavio." Elliott hums, cupping the man's chin. "You're not hydrated enough to be crying right now." His voice is faux mad, and he tries to suppress a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You… You're too attractive when you're angry!" Octavio sobs, bottom lip trembling as he pouts. Elliott breaks at this, chest shaking as he laughs, pulling the man in to brush their lips together. "Okay, maybe those pain meds are a little too strong." He mumbles, unkempt beard brushing Octavio's jaw and the man pouts, dragging him back in again to grip his hair and meet his lips with more fervour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No making out in my ER!" Ajay yells from the other room, and Octavio pulls away looking sheepish. Elliott smiles, pressing his forehead to the other man's to look into his eyes. His pupils were dilated, covering the whole expanse of hazel that typically surrounded them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he was pretty stoned. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elliott watches with a barely suppressed smile, the amusement still showing through his eyes as Tavi throws back his head with a groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'moooon!" He whines, pouting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Octavio, your heart stopped twice while you were in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>coma</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you can barely eat solid foods and you're complaining you're in pain all the time, so for the last time, no!" Ajay scolds, back to her usual self now that the worst was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not even a little run around?" He asks, pleading with his hands clasped. A comic book sits discarded in his lap, entirely forgotten as his newest wave of boredom hit him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! Honestly, you drive me mad." The doctor huffs, pausing a second before throwing up her hands when she meets his eyes. "Okay, you get half an hour. No more, ya hear me? That goes for you too, Elliott, you're responsible for him. No sneaking him home." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who me?" He lays a hand on his chest, acting out fake scandal at the accusation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio is practically twitching as he waits for Ajay to return, grinning broadly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Finally, I've been so bored!" He cheers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey! Have I not been excellent company?" Elliott jests, playfully punching at his lover's arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Si, you have amor, though I could think of something you could do to improve that, if we weren't stuck here right now." Octavio smirks, winding a hand into the collar of the other man's shirt to pull him down for a kiss. Elliott reciprocates eagerly, hand cupping the back of the junkie's neck with a pleased sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No strenuous activities for at least a few days, Octavio. That includes whatever's goin' on in that perverted little mind of yours." Ajay's voice chimes in, making Elliott jump back and nearly fall off the edge of the narrow bed, scratching at the back of his neck in embarrassment. Somehow he didnt think '</span>
  <em>
    <span>it's not what it looks like</span>
  </em>
  <span>' would work in this situation. At her side sits a wheelchair, and upon looking at it, Octavio groans loudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Chica you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be serious! Mierda I hate those things." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You either go in a wheelchair or not at all."</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Man, I hate these things, so slow." Octavio huffs as he folds his arms, letting Elliott push the chair for the time being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that because you've got tiny noodle arms?" He asks teasingly, watching Octavio's face pinch in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do not!" He cries indignantly, making Elliott laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, you certainly don't have guns like these that's for sure." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't need 'em, we all know my legs are my best quality."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to tell me twice - man, those thighs." Elliott sighs dreamily, stopping to press the button for the elevator. Octavio drums out a beat on the armrests of the wheelchair as they wait, huffing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's the plan?" He asks, causing Elliott to look down at him with a nervous smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should probably talk about… Well, everything. It's gonna suck, but hey, you can't run away this time." He laughs making Octavio scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Real funny, amor." He rolls his eyes with a grin. "Okay, you win." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator dings and Octavio wheels himself inside, lifting up a hand to grab hold of Elliott's. He presses a chaste kiss to the knuckles and leans his forehead there until the doors open again, this time on the bottom floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott sits down on the bench once Octavio is parked beside him, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him in as much as the arm rest between them would allow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." Elliott breathes out, taking his cigarettes out from the packet and putting one between his lips, lighting the end. "Tell me everything." He watches as Octavio frowns in thought, picking at a loose thread on his shorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It… It started with last season of the games. I think." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go on. I promise you I won't be mad, baby." Elliott strokes a hand through Octavio's hair, and he leans into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I noticed the games weren't fun anymore… I was... </span>
  <em>
    <span>bored</span>
  </em>
  <span> all the time. When I joined, the adrenaline from one game would last me until I fought in the next one, but… It wasn't hitting the same anymore. The stim helped, and when I wasn't using it everything was slow. So I started using more." He looks away, shrugging with embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright, Tav. Keep going, please." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio is silent for a moment longer, and then he speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose I just got addicted. When the season ended, I felt bad all the time. Tired, miserable. I wasn't hungry either. Ajay called it '</span>
  <em>
    <span>withdrawal symptoms</span>
  </em>
  <span>' I think."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott makes sure Octavio is done speaking, hesitating slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That morning you made my breakfast… Were you-" He breathes out smoke as he talks, flicking ash away from the end of the cigarette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nod Octavio gave him hurt his heart. He looked ashamed. Elliott leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad, I just want to know, yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Si, and you deserve to know. I had one vial left over from the end of the season and I just wanted to feel good." He scratches at his cheek where the slightest of stubble was growing in. "But mierda, that headache I had later that night- I've never felt pain that bad, amor. It felt like… It felt like after I lost my legs." He grimaces in remembrance, but from the memory of the headache or losing his legs Elliott isn't sure. "But that didn't give me an excuse to… To treat you the way I did." His eyes fill with tears and he shakes his head in disgust. "You made yourself sick because of what I did. I should have known when you said you were going to the bar but…" his fists clench in his lap. "When I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren't back - I… I just broke down. I realised what an asshole I'd been. So I left Ajay a voice message because I knew I couldn't face you after what I did. I felt… Embarrassed. Octane is never weak, he laughs in the face of pain, but me… I'm terrified. I left and broke into the storage section of the building to take some more stim and then just… Went home. Didn't even do anything  I just had it there. It-" he sniffs, rubbing at his nose. "It made me feel safe. Like if I needed to I could just… Stop feeling bad things." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Removing the arm from around Octavio's shoulders, Elliott grabs at one of his lovers hands, lifting it to kiss at each knuckle and run his thumb over the skin. He stays quiet, encouraging the runner to continue. "Eventually, you came home, and I was… Itching, I felt horrible. Everything hurt and my skin was on fire. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't want to be in pain, I wanted to stop worrying and just be high. I tried to deny that I was suffering, I didn't want to be me - I wanted to be Octane, not Octavio. And… I thought that if I pushed you away, I wouldn't hurt you anymore. It was stupid." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened after I left, after you took your things?" Elliott asks, double squeezing Octavio's hand reassuringly as he takes another drag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I went back to my apartment and threw it all to one side. I felt so awful, I just… Crashed and injected again. It made me feel good. I only took a little, I knew that if I wanted a high that would last, I couldn't use the machine to get it out of my system. The next few days, I just kept building the dose. And then, I suppose I just got tired of sitting around. Wanted to do something to feel like myself again and went to the roof with my stunt kit. I was high, and I guess I took too much, didn't have my machine and just…" he gulps, paling visibly. "It was so scary." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's over now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Seeing your face when I woke up was the best thing that ever happened to me. Knowing that even though I fucked up, you still loved me…" he pauses, wiping away another set of oncoming tears. "I'm cold, can we go inside?" He sniffles, feeling a weight off his shoulders now that the truth had been revealed. Elliott nods, giving his hand one last squeeze before standing, stubbing out the cigarette against the  bottom of his shoe. "My arms hurt, could you-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got you. Mirage to the rescue." The trickster smiles, grabbing at the handles on the wheelchair and beginning to push him back inside from the courtyard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No thanks, I much prefer that Elliott Witt guy, he's way hotter. Good sense of humour too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh yeah? I hear his boyfriends a cool dude, nice personality, shame about the facial hair though." Elliott ribs back, making Octavio groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Si, si, okay. Yeah, maybe I need to shave." he rubs at his cheek, pouting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Its okay, not everyone can have a glorious beard like mine." His tone is cocky until Octavio pipes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyone told you that you really let yourself go lately?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gasp Elliott lets out makes the runner cackle with laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How very dare you, I look good no matter what. I mean, maybe I need to trim and tidy a little more but…" He pauses to smooth a hand along his beard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Amor? Inside." He reminds the holo technician.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, right." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm honoured you'd give up your rigorous personal hygiene routine to look after me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Was that sarcasm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, I can be genuine sometimes too you know." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They begin moving again until they're inside, reaching the elevator once more to press the button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did I ever tell you I used to have like, a beard ponytail?" Elliott asks, rubbing a hand along the unkempt mess of his facial hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio snorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A what?!" He laughs, looking up at the man beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay so, I used to have my beard a little longer than it is now, and I kinda… Oh man, this is embarrassing. I used to tie it like…" he gesticulates, huffing before pinching the hair on his chin between his index finger and thumb. "Like this? I probably have photos. Man it looked so bad." He cringes, shaking his head. "I definitely have to trim it down when we get home."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe you should bathe too." Octavio teases, making Elliott push his shoulder playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's manly!" He insists, making the runner explode into another wave of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know, don't keep at it on my account, but man you look really attractive when you smoke." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you just like looking at something in between my lips, baby." Elliott coos, smirking as he rolls a flustered Octavio into the elevator.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they return to the ward, Elliott helps Octavio back into bed and sits down in the chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Man, I'm surprised that chair doesn't have your ass imprinted into it already. You've sat in it every day for, what? A week?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Five days, and I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you?" He smirks, shooting him a wink. "But seriously though, I've been thinking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh?" Octavio's stomach drops at this, wondering exactly what it was that snapped Elliott out of his joke so quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, we… Broke up… Right?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio wets his lips uncomfortably, preparing for the worst until Elliott quickly speaks up again. "It's just.. I called you my boyfriend earlier and I just needed to know… Is… Is that still what you want?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks vulnerable, playing with his hands nervously until he receives his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… Amor, of course. Forever and always." Octavio pulls him in, pressing their lips together tenderly. "I'm sorry I ever made you think different. Te amaré a través de todo." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-You… Keep saying that to me. I still don't …"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll love you through everything, Elliott."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Elliott says softly, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend again with a double squeeze of their intertwined hands.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was quiet in the infirmary, Ajay having finally decided to sleep now that the pains that Octavio kept complaining of had mostly ceased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just feel real bad about this whole thing." Octavio sighs, lacing his and Elliott's fingers together with a frown. "I mean, I hurt you, I hurt Ajay, look at her, she hasn't taken a break for nearly a week looking after me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She cares about you, that's why she's done it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know why." He says sulkily.  "All I seem to do is mess things up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We all make mistakes, Tav." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio had been craving affection more than usual lately, wanting nothing more than to lie with his boyfriend and waste away the time until he was able to up and move around again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, if mistakes nearly cost you your friendship, relationship and your life then maybe we're talking about the same thing." The runner scoffs, huffing as Elliott runs a hand through his hair from the chair beside his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wanna tell you something." Elliott mumbles, making Octavio perk up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You look real cute today." The trickster laughs, seeming nervous. "No, but seriously. Um. Oh man, I haven't thought of this in a long time. But I mean, I trust you, so-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever it is, if you're uncomfortable telling me-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! No, I'm okay. I've never actually told anybody so…" He breathes deeply and exhales a sigh, rubbing at his beard. "Do you think Ajay would get mad if I smoked in here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. Give me one." Octavio smirks, reaching out a hand to take the cigarette he's offered. "Man, haven't smoked since high school." He grins, watching Elliott light his own coolly before leaning in to touch the end of his own cigarette to Octavio's to light it. The runner breathes it in and immediately chokes on a cough. "Yup, it still sucks." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You really confuse me sometimes." Elliott laughs, taking a long drag with furrowed brows. "Okay so, before I joined the games, my life was pretty different. I… Did a lot of things I wasn't proud of… After my brothers went missing - that's when I started smoking too." He pauses, passing a hand over his face. It still hurt to talk about, not knowing if they were alive or not. "After we got the news, I just… Lost myself. This was before I had the bar, I was just a kid, really. I went out, got drunk nearly every night. I… Went home with someone new every night. Always woke up in some stranger's bed, or on their floor, or… And I'd go to work hungover and go out all over again." He grimaces at the memory, taking another drag of the cigarette. "I didn't want to face my mom, so I just stopped going home. Ended up at this party one night - hell, I don't even think I knew the guy, just tagged along because I was in too deep. He pulled out some… Mushrooms? It's kind of hazy, I guess. I was sick of just the alcohol so I tried some. For a while, I think I was addicted. Did some shady shit too. I just…" he clenched his fist as he spoke, voice cracking, "I felt so bad about myself, I'd sleep with anyone who would have me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, amor." Octavio says softly, squeezing his hand twice in understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But, I got sick of it all, locked myself in my room for a week straight to get it all out of my system and man, it sucked. I got really sick, I was shaking all the time and I nearly lost my job, but I did it. And I'm okay now. And you will be too." When Elliott locks eyes with him, he can't help but notice how tired they are, how much stuff he's been through in his life. "Shame, I think I was supposed to be over five years clean from these things, too." He laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and throwing it into the trash can in the corner of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry." Octavio apologises, making Elliott wave a hand dismissively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's in the past, and besides, I can always quit again. We can do it together." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio's cigarette safely extinguished and thrown away, the window open to get rid of the smoke, the pair talk until the familiar sound of the door opening catches their attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll pretend I don't smell that, Witt." Ajay scolds making him flinch away in embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry." He mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyways, good news you two. Silva, ya free to go." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For reals?!" Octavio gasps, sitting up in bed, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yup, but for the love of God take it easy, will ya?" Her stare is burning and he nods eagerly, too lost in the excitement of finally being able to leave to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I get my legs back?!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only if you promise no running for a week." Ajay folds her arms, raising a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever gets me moving again faster."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's the point, no running." The medic jokes, handing him each prosthetic to attach. Once can stand again, he hops off the bed, immediately wobbling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Woah." He groans, Elliott's hands reaching out to steady him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Ajay, for everything. I seriously owe you one." The trickster smiles, lacing his hand with his boyfriend's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know, but we can talk about that another time." Ajay laughs, patting his shoulder. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go home and sleep for a week." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk home in the cool night air, hand in hand, laughing and talking with one another until they reached the apartment. Elliott pauses at the door, keys lined up to the lock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw man."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The place is a mess." His face darkens and he laughs nervously. "I don't think I ate anything but takeout while you were gone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow, rude. When I'm here it's always '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry, I'm watching my figure</span>
  </em>
  <span>'." Octavio pouts with over exaggerated air quotes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was sad! I missed you!" He exclaims, shooting his boyfriend puppy dog eyes as he unlocks the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, I'm sorry, Amor." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine. But seriously I dont think I'll be able to eat take out for a while, I feel gross, and I think I've put on weight." He groans, pressing a hand to his stomach as he walks through the hall into the bedroom. He quickly scoops up all the cartons and wrappers down his side of the bed before Octavio can see, shoving them into the trash with an embarrassed tut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You overreact, Elliott." Octavio soothes, stepping into the room. His nose wrinkles. "Okay, it doesn't smell too good in here." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No kidding. Run the bath while I clean up?" He asks, watching as Octavio nods. "Thanks baby, you're a lifesaver."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problemo." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts by emptying the trash bag into the disposal outside, nodding with satisfaction and wiping his hands on his pants. Heading back inside, he decides to air out the room by opening the window, along with spraying some of his nicer body spray around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh man, this sucks." He groans, leaning over the bed to begin peeling off the sweat stained sheets, balling them up before throwing them into the corner. They could wait. He remakes the bed just in time, Octavio's voice beckoning him from the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott walks in to see his boyfriend shimmering out of his shorts, shooting him a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hola, what brings you here?" He asks, wrapping his arms around the trickster's waist, hands wandering down to cup at his ass and squeezing appreciatively and leaning up to capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Elliott groans, separating reluctantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bath first." He breathes against Octavio's mouth, though gives him a few more kisses before they part. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hurry up and strip then, before I get impatient!" Octavio huffs, peeling off his underwear and sitting down on the edge of the bath to remove his prosthetics and set them off to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're always impatient, Tav." Elliott laughs, bending over a little more than necessary when removing his pants to make his boyfriend groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tease."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You love it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hells yeah I do." Octavio laughs, easing himself down into the hot water with a sigh. "Hurry up, amor, it's nice and warm."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliott finishes undressing and groans as he slides down into the bath, Octavio tucked in between his legs. The runner turns, lying against Elliott's side with his head on his pec. Appreciatively, his hands run across the man's stomach. "Oh, you look cute." His fingers trace the slight pudge of the man's abdomen, up and down the hair below his navel as he peppers kisses across his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"N-No I'm… Shit, Tav." Elliott gasps, eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. "Mmph" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand slips into Octavio's hair as the runner moves down, kissing along the man's stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I like this. You look good." His hands knead at the man's stomach softly, grazing his teeth along the flesh and sucking the skin into his mouth to bruise and mark and claim. Octavio's hand grabs at Elliott's fattening cock, stroking it before dipping under the water to push it between his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"F-fu-uck!" Elliott groans, voice breaking as his grip tightens on the man's hair. His head smacks back against the tub, a high pitched gasp escaping his lips. "Shit, baby... You feel so good." His hips buck, making water splash around Octavio's face. Unbothered, the runner continues to bob his head, twisting his wrist at the base until Elliott moans again, voice echoing off the tiles. He pulls on the green tipped hair, thighs shaking as Octavio moans against him in response when he pulls the man up. "Not… Not now. We need to clean up." He gasps, trying to catch his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They hurry up as much as possible, cleaning each other and feeling each other up in equal measures until the water is drained out of the tub, and Elliott wastes no time in picking Octavio up, forgoing a towel to drop him down on the bed and lean over him, kissing him hungrily. He presses into Octavio as much as their position could allow, desperate for skin to skin contact as they kissed, the passionate embrace shifting to something slower, softer. "I missed you so much, baby." Elliott mumbles into Octavio's ear, kissing down his neck with slow open mouthed movements, letting his tongue brush against the skin as he went. "Fuck, I was lost without you." He moves to the man's collar bones, mouthing across them and down his sternum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhh, Elliott?" Octavio asks, lifting onto his elbows to watch as the man rubs circles into his sides, kissing everywhere he could reach across his chest before coming to a pierced nipple. He takes it between his lips, sucking on it before rolling it between his teeth, making the runner cry out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, I just…" Elliott's hips buck into Octavio's and the whimper he lets out shows just how sensitive he is. "Just let me worship you, please baby. Fuck, I need you." His brows are furrowed in pained pleasure as he ruts slowly against Octavio's thigh, moving to press their foreheads together and moan against his lips. Octavio nods, kissing him quickly in agreement. Elliott's hands move to cup at his hips, kissing his way back down to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He alternates between the two until Octavio is oversensitive and gasping at the slightest breath over the swollen buds. It's then his hands slide down, massaging the strong muscles of the runner's thighs appreciatively as his mouth follows, kissing at the man's abs and making him tense at the tickling sensation. Elliott lathes kisses across the man's stomach and hips, biting at the skin there and licking it soothingly after until bruises littered his skin. "So pretty." He gasps into Octavio's hip, licking down to where his leg met his torso, actively avoiding where he knew the speedster wanted him to be. Lavishing kisses and bites into Octavio's thighs, Elliott groaned appreciatively, hands rubbing the expanse until they slide up, cupping at the toned ass and lifting him back onto his shoulders with his legs spread. "Fuck, so good for me." He practically sobs, laying a few tender pecks to the backs of Octavio's legs until he moves in, tongue probing between spread cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Octavio's face flushes with colour as he lurches, gasping loudly, a moan escaping his throat. Sure, he'd joked about it before, but he didn't think Elliott would ever actually-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mierda, Elliott, fuck!" He whines, feeling the man lap at his hole eagerly. The feeling of being so exposed, so spread open for his lover made his hips rock into the tongue, urging him on. "More, please, so good!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of a finger rubbing against him makes him tense, eyes rolling back into his head. "Please, please I need you!" He begs, whining and gasping until he's set back down, and there's tears in the corner of his eyes. Elliott presses a kiss to his temple as he leans away, fishing around in his bedside drawer until he finds the small bottle of lube. He warms it between his hands as he presses a kiss to each love bite, and then squeezes a generous amount to his hands, setting the bottle aside. Rubbing the flat of his finger against Octavio's entrance, Elliott settles between the open thighs and takes the tip of the runner's cock into his mouth as he pushes in to the knuckle. Octavio immediately bucks up, moaning loudly as he grabs a handful of the trickster's curls. "Fuck! Por favor!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott bobs his head, beginning to slowly piston the finger inside him at the same speed. His spare arm presses Octavio down by the waist, ensuring he couldn't move too much. "Más, más, Elliott por favor!" He keens, feeling another finger push into him and his head bob deeper to take more into his mouth at his request. Octavio's moans come out louder, reaching a higher pitch as drool leaks from the corner of his mouth. Sex hadn't felt this good in a long time. "Date prisa, solo follame, por favor!" He chokes out between moans, tugging at Elliott's hair eagerly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Baby, I don't-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just fuck me! Stick your cock in me, please, I need to feel you!" He cries out, whining and bucking as Elliott's hands leave him to slick up his shaft. He wipes his hand on the sheets, pushing in slowly with a raspy moan as Octavio tightens around him. "Yes!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, fuck, you feel so good around me, so tight." Elliott sobs, pushing against him, arms framing his boyfriend's face as he buries his head into the crook of Octavio's neck. Bottoming out, he gasps hotly into the man's ear, eyes leaking with tears. "I love you, fuck, Tavi, baby I-" the drag as he pulls out is divine and he whines loudly, hips jerking shallowly into the heat. He cups at Octavio's cheek with his hand, brushing a thumb along the man's lips until he takes it in his mouth, sucking on it with fervour. "Oh fuck, fuck! You're so good. Feel so good." He babbles, picking up the pace until the sound of skin hitting skin can be heard throughout the room, mingling with their loud and desperate moans. "I love you so much, you're so-" he gasps, throwing his head back. "S-So… So tight. Baby, please." He begs, tears staining his cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His boyfriend was alive, he was here, he was real and he felt so good around his cock. "Pl-Please… Please, please, oh fuck I can't-" He sobs, pulling the hand on Octavio's face away to slip between their bodies, jerking the man's leaking cock in time with his thrusts until Octavio's thighs squeeze his hips even tighter. "Please baby, let me cum. I need to cum, please I-" his eyes roll back into his skull uncontrollably as he grinds his hips, right on the edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cum with me, amor, inside." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott chokes out a broken moan, fucking into his boyfriend sloppily until he stills, collapsing almost bonelessly on top of him. Octavio pants, feeling the sticky mess across his stomach and the warmth inside of him but too tired to care. Elliott groans, burying his face into Octavio's neck to kiss at the skin softly, stirring his hips for a moment with an oversensitive whine. "Thank you." He sobs, voice muffled from his place between the runner's shoulder and neck. Octavio strokes at Elliott's hair, coaxing him out to kiss at his lips tenderly. They lay there for a moment, lazily kissing until Elliott pulls out, hearing Octavio groan as the cock was replaced by the man's fingers stroking tenderly over his hole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck." He mumbles sleepily, arching his back up to the sensation as the fingers fuck into him slightly, pushing his boyfriend's cum back inside before slipping out again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio begins to snuggle up to the trickster's side until the man stiffens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, w-w-wait a s-sec…" he stutters out, rolling off the side of his bed to wander over to his desk. Octavio watches him curiously, fishing around in his desk drawer underneath stacks of files and sheets of loose paper until he takes something in his hand, obscuring it from sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott sits down on the bed, eyes nervous and shoulders raised. "Baby…" he starts, pausing as he gnaws at his lip, closing his eyes and pushing his hand forward as if trying to get it over with. A box. He lifts the top with his thumb, and Octavio is at a loss for words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott?" He asks, voice quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, I wanted to wait, I did. Take you out for a nice fancy meal and give it to you then, but… Seeing how good you look, being yourself, not all dressed up, just lying with me in bed I can't pretend I'm not ready to ask anymore. Octavio, I love you. I want to be with you… Forever… If you'll let me." He opens his eyes slowly, coming face to face with the tears leaking down his boyfriend's cheeks. "Through everything. Together." He stares for a moment, wincing. "It's too soon, isn't it? I'm sorry, fuck, I guess I just got carried away-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elliott?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth hangs agape, chest hammering with anxiety as he processes it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You… You want to marry me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"More than anything." Octavio responds, wiping at his eyes with a laugh. "I let you top once, and this is what I get in return. I should let you stick your dick in me more often." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you ruined the moment." Elliott chuckles, taking the ring and sliding it onto his boyfriend's- </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiance's</span>
  </em>
  <span> finger. It was a simple silver band with a single diamond inlaid in the centre, engraved on the inside in cursive was O &amp; E. "Do… Do you like it?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Si, it's beautiful, amor. I can't begin to thank you." Octavio sighs, wrapping his arms around Elliott's neck and leaning in to hold him close, feeling his waist encircled by strong arms in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They lie there for a while, tracing patterns over each other's skin until Octavio speaks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't have anything to wear tomorrow." He points out, making Elliott laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh no, my cute and sexy fiance doesn't have anything to wear but my clothes, however will I cope?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"More sex?" The runner asks hopefully, making Elliott smirk, pressing a kiss to his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps. But seriously, we'll pick your stuff back up tomorrow. That is, if you're still up for moving back in." He jests, prodding at the man's sides playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Si, of course. I've missed this place. Where else is this nicely furnished where I don't have to pay rent?" Octavio laughs, "And I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing you call me that." He sighs dreamily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott smiles, rubbing his hand into Octavio's hipbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh yeah? Cause one day I'll be calling you my husband." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh man, I can't wait to be Mr Witt." Octavio exclaims eagerly, pressing a kiss onto Elliott's mouth that makes him tense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You… You'd take my name?" He asks, voice full of surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As opposed to?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, I just thought we'd hyphenate or-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Octavio Witt, married to holotechnician master, Apex Legend trophy husband Elliott Witt. I like the sound of it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elliott's lower lip trembles, eyes watering with fresh tears as he intertwined their hands, double squeezing them together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me too, baby."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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